Chimichangas Are Good Too...
The Conversion Burrito
Shadow Decimus tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the fat lady in front of him to finish filling out the transfer forms. He was in a fairly clean, squat building that shared remarkable similarities to a Department of Motor Vehicles.
The six foot nine inches ex-hitman brushed aside a lock of pitch-black hair that had fallen out of place and was obstructing the vision of his blood-red eyes. He traced the grotesque scar that marred the entire left side of his face, obtained when he wrestled with a nuclear submarine and won.
Decimus had been told by his employer, some guy who always dressed in white, that their business and operations would be moving to Equestria for the foreseeable future. Shadow didn't know why, but he indirectly assumed base off of zero evidence and research that there was some sort of internal power struggle in the land of ponies. Well, that was his guess, anyway. Things like that were happening a lot recently.
The hitman didn't know what Equestria was or what it took to travel there, but he agreed as soon as the contract was handed to him. He never turned down an assassination contract, which led to a rather awkward situation in which he was supposed to kill himself. He both succeeded and failed at the same time.
Now, as the ex-Navy Seal, Marine, Army Ranger, Spetznaz, M16, and Iron Chef member waited in line behind the obese woman that looked somewhat similar to Martin Lawrence in Big Momma's House, he began to question what 'Equestria' was.
Was it some sort of republic that lived on an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean? A codename for a super-secret government project in which everyone was turned into Bananas?
"Excuse me," began Shadow Decimus, his voice more suave than the guy who did the Dos Equis commercial, "is Equestria a place thought to be fictional and consisting of pastel coloured ponies, but is now real and able to be immigrated to with little or no background checks?"
Shadow was always good at finding information from absolutely nothing. He called it 'reading between the imaginary lines'.
"Indeed it is," replied the teller, a late teen, early twenties woman who wouldn't have looked out of place on porn set. She flicked her hair to the side and smiled at Decimus seductively, but he didn't react. Not only was he the coolest cat on the block, but he was immune to the charms of succubae as well.
"I can already tell that you filled out the A-13653Y4 form out correctly, since you described Equestria perfectly," continued the teller, oblivious to Shadow's immunity. "You can skip ahead to that line over there that I will point to for a second, not long enough to actually figure out where you're supposed to go."
The teller pointed a manicured fingernail somewhere to the right. Decimus admired her dedication to not doing her job correctly.
Changing his voice into a deep, rumbling baritone, Decimus said, "Thanks," the vibrations of his solid titanium vocal chords causing the entire building to shake. He made his way across the dull grey carpeted floor, using his heightened sense of smell from being raised by genetically altered velociraptors to direct him towards the proper line. He smelt old gum, chalk, and semen, which obviously meant that this was the finalization line to immigrate to Equestria.
Pushing aside the other line-goers into the concrete walls with enough force to break all of their necks, Shadow Decimus found himself at the front of the line headed by some pasty-skinned, ginger-haired, acne-riddled teenage boy.
"What are your reasons for transferring to Equestria?" asked the boy, his voice changing pitch with every syllable.
"Assassination contract," replied Shadow nonchalantly. Quickly realizing his mistake, he correct himself. "I mean business. Definitely business related."
The teen didn't seem to notice the slip of the tongue. "Alright. Do you have any qualms about being turned into an equine?" he asked.
Decimus thought about this for one gazillionth of a second. Do I really want to destroy my body, my very soul to become someone... something else?! Will it even still be me?! What if I can't change back?!
Oh wait, he remembered, throwing his overly deep thoughts into the recycling bin. I'm not a deep enough character to think of something like that.
"Nope."
"Okay, one last question before you step onto the device that is potentially worth more than anything else in the world: What is your name?"
Decimus' arrogant, douche-like smile lost its upward edges and turned into a neutral line. "Shadow Decimus," he enunciated clearly and carefully.
"Good one!" said the ginger enthusiastically. "That'll definitely be the most original pony name ever! Of all time! Seriously though, what's your real name?"
Shadow gritted his teeth. He knew the day would come when he would have to reveal his true name. "Gary. Sue," he said through his clenched jaw. Decimus was embarrassed by his old name, so he had changed it to something a little more realistic human name.
"Gary... Sue," parroted the greasy teenager as he finished typing it up onto the Windows 95 computer in front of him. "Alright, that about does it. Just step onto the platform here, and you'll be in Equestria before you knew it." When Decimus went to take off his black leather duster riddled with just enough bullet holes to make it look cool, but not garish, the teenager stopped him.
"Don't worry about your stuff; we trust that nobody will abuse the system we have by bringing in illegal or unauthorized substances, weapons, or media."
Decimus felt the cold barrel of a minigun that he had stuffed down his pants nudge his side. "...Alright."
Stepping onto the platform, Decimus took a deep breath and waited.
"Oh yeah, and if you have any food on you, I'd recommend getting rid of that right about now," the pale ginger offhandedly commented as pulled the lever that would transform and teleport the hitman into Equestria without letting him respond.
Shadow's last vision before he blacked out was of the three pound, meat lover's burrito that was nestled in the inside pocket of his duster, close to his heart, almost exactly where all the fat would go if he had actually eaten the burrito.
Oh dear, he thought before fading into oblivion's welcoming embrace. I forgot to turn the stove off.
Shadow Decimus cracked open an eye and felt the warmth of an unfamiliar Sun reheat his somewhat soggy form. When you had done what Shadow had done, you were able to tell the difference between Suns from different Universes.
Shadow looked around, and noticed that he was on a green park bench, lying on top of a piece of wax paper. He was obviously a burrito. Decimus wasn't at all surprised by this; if anything, he had expected to be morphed into a popular Mexican cuisine. He wasn't sure how he was looking around, but he didn't question it: questions would only clarify certain portions of the plot that the author deliberately left unresolved to piss people off.
The hit-ritto thought for a few seconds on how he would be able to eliminate his target while in burrito form. It only took him roughly 0.00314 seconds to determine a new plan, one that would never, ever fail, not even in a million and one years.
To continue the plot, Shadow's quarry conveniently trotted by and noticed the steaming burrito lying on the park bench. The pony, an aquamarine unicorn with a golden lyre as a cutie mark, took one look at the burrito and went wide-eyed.
Now that he thought about it, Decimus realized that the descriptions his handler gave him regarding his target weren't the result of a drug-addled mind, like he had thought at first. I mean really, an aquamarine unicorn? Everyone knew that unicorns were any colour but aquamarine.
With a hop, skip, and a jump, Lyra Heartstrings bounced over to the Shadow-burrito and ate it in a single bite, even though it a was a meat lover's and ponies were vegetarian. She was a rebel.
Lying in the dark pit that was Lyra's stomach, Shadow laughed maniacally and twiddled his imaginary fingers together in an impression of Mr. Burns. Soon, he thought.
Soon.
Six hours later, Lyra died from Irritable Bowel Syndrome as a result from eating Shadow Decimus.
Bon-Bon cried at her funeral, but nobody else of importance showed up, since she was just a background pony.
END